a bright, shiny new year and you know what that means. Resolutions. For
some reason, every January people all over the world resolve to do
something that will hopefully make him or her a better person: lose
weight, quit smoking, stop nail-biting, put a new coat of paint on the
garage door. Many will try. Few will succeed. But making resolutions is
a good thing. I suppose. Me? Nah, I never make resolutions. I won’t
keep them. Until now. I have made a New Year’s resolution that I hope
will not only make my life easier but also will cut down on the
possibility of killing myself and or others in traffic, shave minutes
if not hours off the amount of time I spend searching for a pen or a
notebook or a bottle of Tylenol or my keys or my school ID tag or my
wallet. Any guesses?
That’s right. I resolve to do something about my
deplorable handbag situation. You see, I carry a bag. It’s really just
a sack with a strap that carries all my stuff. Stuff is important. I
need my stuff. We all have stuff. But I am sick and tired of hearing my
phone jingle while driving and then rooting through the bag, praying I
will put my fingers on it while swerving to nearly miss the apparently
suicidal squirrel that ran out in front of the car. I am fed up with
searching in the black hole that is my bag for a pen and only finding
fuzzy throat drops and crumbs from something I can’t identify. I mean,
what is it with these bags? How does it happen that all of sudden when
you need something, your checkbook for instance, that your bag
transforms into Mary Poppins’s carpetbag, and you find yourself
standing in line at the market, up to your shoulders in your bag,
looking for your club card and all you can pull out is a floor lamp.
You know what I mean. We’ve all done it.
But this year, this year I am on
the search for the perfect bag. A bag with powers to turn me into an
organized bag maven with everything at my fingertips. Perhaps a magical
bag that I can issue commands, too. I want a bag that will carry all my
stuff—including a book or two, keys, ID tag, wallet, notebooks, pens,
tissues, Tylenol, various and sundry necessary items, you know, just in
case. I mean you never know when you’ll need a Band-Aid or a lightbulb
or batteries or a pair of funny glasses with the big nose and mustache.
Am I right? So where is this bag of 2010? It needs to be pretty, not
simply utilitarian, made with natural materials, not plastic or nylon.
It has to be just the right size and hopefully visible from the moon
and maybe glow in the dark, since I tend to lose the entire bag from
time to time, which is a whole other problem.
I’ve been researching these
messenger bags lately, and I’ve seen a
couple I like. But I haven’t decided. So I am opening it up to
If anyone has any suggestions, please e-mail me. This is a
huge paradigm shift for me. I have been carrying my same bag for years
and years and possibly more years. I like my bag, but the madness needs
to stop. I mean, really, if there was a Handbags Anonymous I would
join. “Hello, my name is Joyce, and my handbag is out of control.”
There must be a way to help me
become just a tad more organized, a smidgen less frustrated. I really
am a little tired of the odd looks I get from people. There was the
time I was certain I had a coupon for a dollar off a sack of Fritos and
I ended up dumping the bag on the conveyor belt at the market. It
wasn’t pretty. The checker didn’t turn the belt off and the next thing
we knew, the manager was pulling receipts and a Moleskine notebook (not
to mention my hair) from the mechanism. But, hey, admitting you have a
problem is the first step. So send your suggestions and maybe, just
maybe, I’ll find my cell phone one day while driving without killing a
Happy New Year!
Prayers of Agnes
Sparrow has been selected as one of the top five Christian
Inspirational titles of 2009 by Library Journal.